


Broken Promises

by graceformee



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcoholism, Drinking, FWP, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Moirails, One Shot, Platonic Cuddling, hangovers, indents what indents, moiraillegence, pls i just need more between these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6770512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceformee/pseuds/graceformee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Step One: Leave a cup of coffee at your bedside.</p><p>Step Two: Set your alarms.</p><p>Step Three: Convince yourself that her habits will cease.</p><p>Step Four: Sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Promises

**Author's Note:**

> This was set before Vriska knocked the drink out of Rose's hands, only around four weeks after the meteor started hurtling towards the next session.

Now was a time for just about everyone to be asleep. Not that the time of day on the meteor particularly mattered, since there was no sunlight to follow. That is, except for the three-year deadline the meteor's inhabitants had to wait before much could happen.

But for now, kids and trolls alike, all they could do was sleep to compensate for 41-hour FLARP campaign they participated in for Vriska's and Terezi's sake. And within that timeframe, 18 empty bottles of alcohol and 33 empty cans of Red Bull had to be released from the meteor.

So other than the distant honking, the night was only filled with snores and the occasional unconscious mumbling.

That is, until the shut of a certain bathroom door interrupted the lone, steady rhythm of snoring and honking, with a belch and a sniffle following close after. This marked the twenty-first night that Rose Lalonde had spent vomiting and regretting her curiosity with alcohol. 

When the curt rap of knuckles to the door sounds from the other end, she slurs, "Give me a minute."

On the other side of the door, a boy frowns. Awakened by the sound of hacking and belching, he had either to stay up to the sound of puking all night, or to confront it for everyone's fucking sake. He chose the latter. He's getting better at this, anyway. He'd might as well go all the way and mark this the seventeenth night Dave Strider had spent tending to a certain girl's regret to curiosity.

"Come on, Lalonde. I've got a dump of nachos and pizza just waiting to unload. Trust me, if I could find a way to alchemize a nice pair of Huggies Pull-ups, everything would be all smiles and sunshine from here on out."

"Find a bucket, Strider. I lied. I'm not leaving anytime soon."

"And upset the trolls like that? No thanks. A gentleman's gotta mind his fucking manners."

"Karkat seems to be charmed, despite that," Rose replies, and Dave hears the smirk in that pretentious voice of hers. Isn't she supposed to be the one who's weak right now?

"Uh. Duh, everyone is. How's your puking, by the way? That's a topic we kinda strayed from. Jeez, Rose, know how to keep a conversation next time. No wonder our friends don't want to spend these three years with us."

"Did you just ask me 'How's your puking?' Because there are a million ways to answer that, none of which would really strike a substantial conversation f-" Rose attempts to mock, which only ends in more vomiting. But Dave only feels pity. 

"Look, I'm coming in, alright? Watch out, because Dave Strider just joined the party."

And with that, the door creaks open, with the blonde time knight squeezing his cape and himself into the small space that is the bathroom. The rotten stench that greets him is heinous, so he flips the switch for the vents to start working their magic. Sorry about that, Gamzee.

A girl in a nacho, alcohol and sweat-soiled dress is hunched over the toilet. She's surrounded and illuminated by various scented candles. Her elbows rest on either sides of the seat, propping her head up. Her eyes are shut, and her headband is discarded at his feet. "I thought I locked that door," She murmurs.

"Welp, maybe not today. Better luck next time." Dave shuts the door behind him, as much as he wants it open, for his nose's sake. But Rose's privacy policy was one the introverted boy had to respect.

"Say what you will. I'm not budging," Rose decides.

"Yeah, ol' John's gonna have to wait. You're already doing quite a number on him." 

"You're right. He needs a bit of a three-year break from your feared nuclear pizza bombs-" Rose violently hurls into the bowl once more.

Dave sighs and stands beside Rose, pulling her short hair out of her face. Not that it helped much. "Not much fun roasting me while you're sick, is it?"

"It's-" And Rose's head is in the bowl again, which she only lifts to flush.

"Eugh. Careful there. You don't want your guts ending up down the drain."

Rose sniffles, shuddering as she sits up. "Good for your jars."

"No thanks."

Scoffing, Rose rests her head on the seat of the toilet. Dave lets go of her hair and sits next to her, dabbing at her vomit-coated lips with a square of toilet paper. "All this puke ain't cutting it for the latest trends, Lalonde. I get that you want to be fashion forward and all that, but this is where I'm drawing the line. "

Rose just smiles ominously with her eyes closed. Her dark eyelashes are laid with tears. From hurling a storm or the mechancholy stirring in her core? Who knows. "It's a new line of lipstick I call Broken Promises." 

"Does Kanaya approve?"

"Only if her approval is marked with disgust."

"Well," Dave blurts before he can stop himself. "I think it suits you."

Rose doesn't respond. 

Dave swallows, showing unease. "Too far?" 

Rose's smile is gone, her cheeks turned down, heavy and her eyes are now open, focused on her distorted reflection in the chunky toilet water. Rose lets out a weak chuckle, but her voice breaks when she says, "But it's true."

His brow furrows. "Well, fuck promises. They're made to be broken."

Rose brings a manicured hand to her cheeks, pulling her tears away. She thinks of her Mom, Jaspers, Kanaya, Dave and herself. She then elicts a sob."Not when these promises were supposed to make up who you are."

He shrugs. "Everyone loses themselves every now and then."

And for a long while, not much is said. Dave holds her hair back every time she ducks down to hurl, and counts the minutes in between. The torrent of vomit is lesser every time, and eventually, Rose flushes for the last time and they just sit there in silence, watching the flames of the candles dance on their wicks.

"You done?" Dave softly breaks the silence as he looks at her. 

"I hope so. I'm not sure if there is much left in me to dispose of, anymore," Rose looks back at Dave. "Do you still need to use it?"

"Nah."

"Hm. You never really needed to use the toilet, did you."

"Caught me red-handed. What are you gonna do now, Sherriff?"

"For now, apologize for perturbing your slumber."

"Man, that really takes the cake. Please, anything but that." 

Rose doesn't answer, so Dave swallows. "Hey, it's fine, really. There's nothing better than watching your sister puke her guts out. In fact, it's one of my many famous fucked up fetishes. Seriously, tell me when Hurricane Rose rolls back into town. I'll bring the crew and the cameras over."

"I'm glad to be the star of your pornographic weather documentary, Dave," Rose sighs. "But, digressing, I can't help but wonder why. I always tell you how I am capable of handling myself."

"I don't know," Dave shrugs. "I guess I kinda miss you."

"We were just FLARPing together for a day and a half, Strider."

"Yeah but you were drunk," Dave frowns, pushing his lips together. "I miss talking to you. Like them good old days. Trust me, Terezi and Karkat are pretty cool, but you're the only other human here, not to mention that you're my sister, and my oldest friend. And if I'm only going to catch the Miss Rose McSnooty I just described when she's vomiting and hungover and falling to pieces, then so be it."

Rose stares at him, her eyes brimming with fresh tears she's trying so hard to hold back. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Lalonde," Dave sighs, tears off another square of tissue and catches her tears as they fall.

"I guess this is where I make you another vow never to inebriate myself again," She whispers, tearing off another piece for herself and wiping at her redding nose. "But."

But Dave just shakes his head, sniffling a little and tossing his tissue away. "Don't make me promises you're gonna break. I don't want you losing any more parts of yourself. The good ol' Rose Lalonde is already hard enough to find."

Rose purses her lips, wiping her own tears.

"You'll figure it out in time, being the smartass you are," Dave's fingers find her headband and slip it back behind her bangs, failing miserably when it only musses her hair further. "Uh. Whoops."

And before he could fix it, Rose let her suddenly heavy head fall into her brother's chest, with Dave instinctively catching her arms before she falls too quickly into him.

In that moment, they are quiet for each others' heartbeats; Dave's in his chest and Rose's in her wrists' pulse. Both heartbeats are chaotically without rhythm, without pace, without unison. But both hearts beat fast, raw and real. In their own ways, the children have flaws and perfections most would fail to understand. That is, except for their siblings. And as they held each other like so, their shared blood beat fast through their veins, overwhelmed with the love that only flowed more freely with each thump of their hearts.

"Dave," Rose mumbles into Dave's chest as he let go, allowing her to snake her arms around his waist so he could cross his own arms around her shoulders. "I'm not sure if you are aware that you're my very best friend."

"Well duh. Look at this. We're having sleepovers, staying up late to talk shit about girls and crushes, and we're doing each other's makeup. What makes us better BFFLs?"

"Perhaps if we didn't rendezvous in the context you insinuated," She sidles up against Dave.

"Heh, but I guess we're doing this shit anyway, huh?"

"We're making this happen."

"Oh man. You said it, sister," Dave smirks as he holds her close and squeezes her fragile body.

"Hold me any tighter and you'll witness a whole new line of Broken Promises on you before you know it."

"It'll look fabulous, darling. Don't you worry about it."

"I don't want to rain on your parade, but I thought it only looks good on me, Dave."

He snorts sadly, resting his chin on her matted scalp. "Sorry to rain on yours, but it really doesn't."


End file.
